The LoveHate Game
by Pho3niX
Summary: Hogwarts' Girls' Gossip Society have concluded that opposites attract and have decided to bet on it. So who better to prove their theory on than a Slytherin and a Gryffindor? Problem is, Malfoy and Hermione are the ideal pair to test out the theory!


**A/N: **Well, this is my fourth story in progress so far! I'm counting on all of my regular reviewers of my other stories to support this story and get the reviews rolling in until other people catch on! The crazy idea and basis for this DM-HG romance/humour story just seemed to pop into my head probably somewhere around midnight last night, and for some reason, the idea stuck and began to grow. I knew it'd be hopeless if I attempted to start on the new story so late at night, and I'd lose sight of the plot rather quickly, so I scribbled down notes of my idea and various quotes that popped into my head when I envisioned scenes to come in the story. Now that I've finally written the first chapter, well…here it is! I sincerely hope the first chapter is enough to get you interested and keen for more chapters to come soon. Happy reading!!!

**Disclaimer: **Don't own a thing except for the slightly crazy plot! That's mine! Oh, and Draco Malfoy will be mine…as soon as I manage to coerce J.K. Rowling into parting with him…I do believe she's rather fond of him – and I can't say I blame her, either! ;)

Here's my new story! Enjoy, most beloved fans, and REVIEW!!! In case you don't know, press the little purple – or is it blue? – button down the bottom, and type even just "good" or "bad"…I'm begging you!!! :)

**The Love-Hate Game**

_Chapter One: Tackling The Draco Malfoy Problem_

Hogwart's resident Gossip Queens from each House had come to a smug, satisfied conclusion.

"Opposites attract." Lavender Brown stated avidly, and the girls gathered around her in the girl's bathroom fervently agreed.

"And," Parvati Patil continued, "I think I am correct in saying that we all agree that there are such things as love-hate relationships." A murmur of assent. "The more hate between the girl and the guy, the more unresolved sexual tension is developed. Right, girls?"

A louder chorus of assent rang throughout the room, bouncing off the white tiles.

Susan Bones stood up. "I think we are all in agreement, even the Slytherin girls, right?" The girls decked out in green scowled, Pansy as the leader, but reluctantly nodded. "So now," Susan continued cheerfully, "I think we, as the official Girls' Gossip Society, should find two candidates to test our theory, and place a new offer into the betting pool."

Pansy smirked. "You think we'll actually be able to pull it off? We'd have to rely on an unpredictable second party to get the results and proof we need to win that bet. Then again," she mused absently, "The GGS really needs the money for that Deluxe Make-Over Trip someone proposed a while ago."

"Trust me, Parkinson, let me and Lavvy find the perfect couple, and we'll scoop the betting pool clean." Parvati promised confidently.

"Who's in charge of keeping tabs on the betting at the moment?" Mandy Brocklehurst asked curiously.

Pansy pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Blaise Zabini, the Head Boy, with Justin Finch-Fletchly as the backup."

Ginny Weasley snorted. "How ironic – the Head Boy himself, along with a Prefect, organising the betting pool against the school rules."

Lavender grinned. "You know, I get the feeling that Dumbledore knows about it and is rather amused by it all."

……o.::.O.::.o……

Hermione Granger sighed as she settled into her new Head Dorm on the couch with a heavy book in her hands. The portrait opened, admitting Blaise Zabini, the Head Boy, as she flipped her book open. She smiled at him over page hundred and two, and he nodded in her direction vaguely before heading up to his room.

"Oh – Blaise!" she called suddenly over her shoulder, putting her book down.

He paused, his hand on the door handle. "Yeah?"

"Have you got time to help me write up the patrol duties? Dumbledore wants them done soon."

He groaned. "Damn, I forgot all about that." He glanced apologetically at her. "Do you mind if we do it after dinner? I've got Quidditch practise now."

"No problem." Hermione replied cheerfully. "It means I can finish today's homework assignments now."

"Don't even remind of me homework, Hermione."

She laughed. "Sorry. By the way, why on earth have you got practise so early in the year? It's only the first school day of the year."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Malfoy's the Slytherin team Captain this year, and he's worse than Wood was rumoured to be. I swear, he's cracked it – there's this maniacal gleam in his eye, and he's so determined to win this year that he's forcing us to practise constantly, straight away. The boy's gone mad, if you ask me. He's driving all of us nuts already."

Hermione laughed. "Harry's team Captain for Gryffindor this year – he's heading in the same direction. It must be a personality trait they look for in Quidditch Captains."

"Probably." Blaise sighed as he went into his room to change and grab his broomstick.

He leapt back down the stairs, tapping Hermione on the head with his broomstick lightly, playfully, before striding to the portrait.

"Good luck." Hermione called out absently, smiling at him.

"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it. Especially if I stuff up something – Malfoy will crack it."

She laughed once more as he left, then opened her book once more, her eyes flicking over the pages. She mused absently that Blaise, despite being a Slytherin, was polite, quiet, highly intelligent and quite friendly once you gained his trust. It certainly made for a nice change.

……o.::.O.::.o……

Lavender and Parvati anxiously scanned the Great Hall, looking for the perfect targets.

"Pav, are you _sure _we can pull this off? What if we were wrong and we can't find the right pair? The GGS are depending on us!"

"Shut _up_, Lav. We'll find someone, don't worry." Parvati narrowed her eyes at an unsuspecting Hufflepuff girl who was currently trading petty insults with a smarmy-looking Ravenclaw boy. "What about them?"

Lavender glanced over and rolled her eyes. "A Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw? They're probably fighting over a textbook term – there's no way that's an appropriate hate-love relationship brewing there." She sighed. "What we really need would be a Gryffindor and a Slytherin – perfect environment for a love-hate relationship."

There was a rather lengthy pause.

Parvati turned to look at Lavender, an eyebrow raised. "_That _could work."

……o.::.O.::.o……

Hermione flounced down the stairs, uniform perfectly in place, her hair flying madly behind her. She smiled brightly as Blaise emerged from his room, yawning and rubbing at his eyes.

"Time?" He managed to mumble out as he headed towards the bathroom.

"Twenty minutes till breakfast starts. You've got plenty of time left." Hermione informed him. She watched in amusement as he accidentally walked into the bathroom door, stumbled, and then found the actual doorway, yawning the whole time.

Hermione settled down comfortably in the green couch in the common room, picking up her book and searching for her bookmark. She leant back against the pillow as her eyes swept over the pages, a slight smile on her face.

An irritated, half-strangled groan floated down the stairs from the bathroom, and Hermione rolled her eyes as she put her book down.

"What on earth is wrong with you, Blaise?" she called up irritably.

"My _hair_!" he wailed piteously, sounding quite dejected.

Hermione blinked. '_What?_' "Er – what was that, Blaise?"

A distressed moan was her only reply.

Looking completely baffled, she slid off the couch and flounced up the stairs and into the bathroom. The sight that greeted her entrance was enough to make her desperately want to burst out into laughter. As she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her incoming laughter to a choked snort, she vaguely noticed tears of mirth gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Blaise turned to glare at her, his head over the sink, water dripping down his face from his hair.

"It's not _funny_, Hermione!" he moaned pathetically.

Hermione was almost ashamed to admit privately that it really rather was quite funny. After all, she _was_ a Gryffindor and was meant to be full of compassion for others in their times of need, but _surely_ they were allowed to laugh at hair that had been gelled into a patchy Mohawk.

She managed to restrain her laughter enough to choke out, "How did you manage to do _that_ in less than a minute?"

He looked distraught. "Well, I've never been all that good with gel, and usually Malfoy helps me out, but now we're not in the same dorm. And, well, I thought I'd try it myself, and then I remembered hearing Goyle talk about a spell that gels your hair for you, and I figured that if Goyle had tried it, it probably wouldn't work, knowing him and his magic skills, but I thought I had nothing to lose, so – _stop laughing at me_!" he ended with a wail, looking slightly put-out.

Hermione bent over, clutching her stomach, tears rolling down her face as she laughed.

"Oh, _Blaise_." She sighed finally as she straightened, regaining her composure. "Here," she continued, moving over and snatching the comb and gel away from him, "let me do it for you."

She turned the tap on, filling the basin with water, and then unceremoniously dunked his head into the cool water.

Blaise came up spluttering and gasping, before levelling a highly affronted glare at her.

She grinned at his expression, and then waved her wand at his hair. The Mohawk, which had been half washed away by the water, slid down and his wet hair was soon plastered to his head.

Blaise glanced nervously at the comb in her hand. "Are you _sure_ you know what you're doing? I don't want a repeat of that incident."

"Trust me, Blaise."

"I'm a Slytherin, Hermione. We don't even trust ourselves sometimes, let alone a Gryffindor wielding a comb and a nasty glint their eye."

She laughed as she began to attack his hair with the comb. After a few minutes, she stepped back to survey her handiwork. Satisfied, she seized the gel and spread it through his hair. Five minutes later, after a final flick of the comb through his hair, she stood back, a smile on her face as she turned him to face the mirror.

"Well?" she asked expectantly, a smug look on her pretty face.

He grinned as he surveyed his perfectly spiked black hair. "Perfect. Thanks, Hermione. I owe you one." He cast a curious glance at her. "How come you're such an expert at this? I'll have to get you to style my hair all the time from now on."

She laughed. "I used to help out Harry and Ron – if you can believe it, they were even worse than you are."

He grinned. "I'm impressed – that's certainly a claim to fame to be worse than me."

She smiled back at him. "Pity I don't have someone to help me with my hair." She said ruefully, tugging at one of her frizzy, wayward curls.

He cocked his head, his eyes sweeping over her hair. "You know," he said lazily, "I do believe I've got an excellent charm that might help with that little problem of yours."

Hermione perked up, looking vaguely hopeful.

"Of course," he continued, smiling smugly at her, "I'd use that to pay back any debt I'll owe you for styling my hair everyday, as the charm _should_ keep your hair in order permanently." He raised an eyebrow. "Do we have a deal, Hermione?"

She grinned. "Definitely."

He raised his wand and muttered a spell. She started to grin when she felt her hair flatten and smoothen out into gentle curls, then glared at him when it suddenly puffed back out again.

"Ah," he said delicately, examining her hair. "Perhaps the more powerful version of the spell?"

He tried it again, waving his wand hopefully, but they ended up with the same results.

Hermione sighed. "It's no use, Blaise."

He tapped his wand thoughtfully against his chin before abruptly proceeding to cast the spell no less than ten times. When Hermione reached up to gingerly touch her hair, she encountered soft, smooth curls with rich browns and honey strips running through it.

Blaise grinned. "_That_ should do it."

……o.::.O.::.o……

Hermione and Blaise strolled down the corridor towards the Great Hall, chatting amicably. Hermione was laughing from one of Blaise's comments as they rounded the corner and neither of them noticed the tall, imposing figure standing in front of them until Hermione bowled into the person and fell backwards.

Blaise leaned over, stretching out a hand to Hermione and pulling her effortlessly to her feet. They turned slightly to face a tall, blonde boy with a particularly hateful sneer twisting his normally handsome face.

"Consorting with _mudbloods _now, Zabini? You're a pureblood – you know better than associate with such utter filth. Besides, imagine what dear mummy and daddy would say to this."

Blaise glared. "Shut up, Malfoy. You might be led around on a leash by your father, and willing to accept all that quality of blood rabble, but I'm not you. I'll do what I please and talk to whoever I want."

Malfoy's glare intensified. "You always were a queer one, Zabini. Never cared about preserving your bloodlines, always agreeing to Dumbledore's ravings about pathetic, savage- minded Muggles. Filthy things, they are."

Hermione's eyes were blazing as she stared at Malfoy. Raising her wand, she cast a number of hexes at him.

Malfoy's wand was in his hand within a matter of seconds, and he matched every one of her curses with nasty ones of his own. With a cruel smile, he disarmed her and swung his wand towards Blaise, blasting him to the side as the dark-haired boy reached for his wand.

Turning back to face Hermione, a smirk slid effortlessly into place as he twirled her wand in his hands. His eyes gleamed. "Always so quick to anger, Granger." He tut-tutted as he circled her, his eyes watching her as she panted heavily with fright and exertion. He reached his hand out to trail it delicately down her neck and across her shoulder to bury it in her silky curls.

"You know," he murmured, sliding up against her, "You're pretty when you're angry, _Hermione_. Pity you're a Mudblood – such a terrible waste of talent and looks."

"Shut up, Malfoy." She whispered, her eyes hardening.

He laughed coldly, cruelly, into her ear. Hermione suddenly spun around and swung her hand viciously at his face. He smirked as he caught her wrist easily, tightening his hold painfully. With a strangled cry, she leapt at him, eyes spitting sparks as she tackled him.

Blaise groaned, shaking his head, then stared as he watched Malfoy and Hermione rolling around on the floor, Hermione punching him and Malfoy cursing loudly as he blocked her wild attacks.

A crowd was slowly gathering around them as the students poured out of the Great Hall to view the commotion. Cheers resounded throughout the hallway.

"You go girl!" A flash of red hair, bouncing up and down. Ginny Weasley.

"_Get _off_ her, you slimy Slytherin git!_" Another red-head barged through the crowd, an anxious black-haired boy at his side.

The few Slytherins in the excited, jostling crowd hissed and glared at everyone around them, and sent Hermione particularly nasty scowls.

There came shouts, and then Professor McGonagall burst through the crowd. She swelled up in her fury, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she surveyed two of the school's star pupils participating in a vicious brawl. Fuming, she separated the two students and proceeded to scream herself hoarse for a good thirty minutes.

……o.::.O.::.o……

Lavender and Parvati, having seen the whole fiasco unfolding and playing out, looked at each other, identical evil grins adorning their faces.

"Perfect." Parvati said smugly.


End file.
